


So Dizzy We Forget Who We Are

by RetroactiveCon



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Drugs, Injury, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21624172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: Len makes a visible effort to focus. “If you’re not the nurse,” he murmurs, “then why are you visiting?” His eyes light up with an odd, subdued hope. “Are you…we’re not…together?”Barry nods. His cheeks feel warm again. Len has never looked at him like this, as though he can’t quite believe Barry is real. “Yeah. We’re, um, something? I mean I don’t know how you feel about me, but you mean a lot to me.”Len shifts to free his left arm, reaches up, and brushes reverent fingertips over Barry’s cheek. His skin is cool and surprisingly soft. “How did I ever get so lucky?”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Comments: 6
Kudos: 267





	So Dizzy We Forget Who We Are

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a modified lyric from "Out Tonight," from Rent. It in no way relates to the content of the fic; I'm just not creative with titles.
> 
> Also, I've played fast and loose with the canon timeline - Caitlin is already comfortable with Killer Frost, but they haven't yet met Rosa Dillon. 

“I can handle Dillon,” Len had said. “She’s one of my old crew, and I deal with my own. This isn’t a job for the Flash.”

Obediently, Barry had let him go alone. Cisco had forced comms on him (“Your sister would kill me if I let you die”) that he accepted begrudgingly, only checking in when Cisco demanded it of him. His last check-in was three minutes ago. Barry is starting to fret. 

“Captain Cold?” Cisco asks into the microphone. “Snart, respond!” 

There’s silence. Barry throws on his Flash suit at superspeed and skids to a clumsy stop in front of the bank of monitors. Cisco glances up at him. “You’re going in?”

“I’m going in,” he agrees. He’s never gone up against Rosa Dillon, but he’s seen what she can do to security guards. If she got Len dizzy while he was using the cold gun, he can only imagine what could have happened. 

“Well, then, will _you_ please respond to your comms?” Cisco demands. Barry is out the door before he finishes his sentence. 

When he reaches the bank Dillon was trying to rob, an alarming scene awaits him behind the doors. Dillon is nowhere in sight. A guard is sprawled on the floor. Some two meters in front of him is Len, blood pooling under his right shoulder. Barry bypasses the guard, who seems dizzy but unhurt, to kneel beside Len. 

“Are you okay?”

Len’s goggles have been knocked askew. Barry eases them off of him and examines his eyes. The pupils are blown wide and slightly unfocused; he’s still under the effects of Dillon’s dizzying power. “She got me,” he admits. “I stepped right into the path of the guard’s bullet. Stupid.”

Barry spares a glare for the guard. “He shouldn’t have shot. Dillon can be taken down without lethal force.”

“Scared,” Len murmurs. “I don’t blame him.” His eyes flutter closed. “Help me up?”

“No! You’re not walking like this.” Barry tries to scoop him up. It’s futile: even were Len not made bulky and awkward by his parka, he’s heavier than Barry. After two minutes of tugging, he manages to get Len on his feet. “I’m going to run with you.”

Len lets his head fall against Barry’s shoulder. “Course you are,” he murmurs. 

He runs Len back to STARLabs and commends him into Caitlin’s capable care. Then, to his distress, he’s required to return to the scene of the crime in a CSI capacity. He’s distracted and sloppy. Joe can tell. 

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” 

Barry glances up. The swab in his hand is wet with Len’s blood. He pushes the thought away and focuses on the familiar repetitive motions of sliding the plastic cover over the cotton head of the swab and snapping it shut. “What?”

“Snart.” Joe jerks his head toward the security camera in one corner. “I saw the tape. Dillon got him, didn’t she?” 

Barry bags up the swab and tucks it away. The moment his hands are empty, his resolve crumbles. He drops his head into his hands and forces himself to take a deep breath. When he speaks, his voice wavers. “I’ve never seen him get hurt before.” 

Joe lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Snart’s a tough son of a bitch,” he says. “I’ll give him that. Bet he’s already up and around.” 

“Yeah.” His response leaves him as a sigh. He can’t shake the memory of blood soaking Len’s parka and pooling around him on the floor. Running with him could have made it worse. He might even now be on the verge of death…

“Barr. _Barr.”_ Joe sounds like he’s been trying to get his attention for a minute or two. “I think you’re pretty much done here. Go put the evidence in the truck and get to STAR Labs. You won’t calm down until you do.”

Obediently, Barry takes the evidence case out to the van. He’s about to run to STAR Labs when a thought strikes him. Instead of bolting away, he wanders back inside and pulls Joe into a hug. “Thanks for understanding.”

Joe pats his back. “I may not like you dating Snart, but I’m never gonna stand by and watch you work yourself into an anxiety attack. Go on. Tell Caitlin and Cisco I said hi.” 

Barry nods and takes a shaky step back. “Y-yeah. I will.” 

He waits until he’s out of sight of the bank to run. From starting near a stoplight to bursting through STAR Labs' doors, it’s less than ten seconds. It takes an additional second to reach the medbay. He almost runs into Caitlin, who’s hiding a smile. 

“Len?” he bursts out. 

“He’s fine.” Caitlin tilts her head toward the medbay. “He just woke up. He’s a little out of it, and it turns out that he’s…flirty, I guess?. . .when he’s high. He said I’m ‘as chill as my alter,’ which was sweet.” 

Barry slumps against the doorframe and breathes a sigh of relief. He’d conjured so many horrible scenarios in his mind that the likeliest—that Len would be fine—had barely occurred to him. 

“Go see him,” Caitlin urges. 

Barry approaches the cot at a normal speed. Len is on his side facing the door, a small, dazed smile on his lips. When Barry steps closer, the smile grows. “Are you the nurse?”

“Huh?” Barry whips around to see if Caitlin followed him. There’s no one behind him. He turns around and points at his own chest. “You mean me?” 

Len nods. “Adorable,” he murmurs. Barry can’t help blushing under the familiar praise. 

“Um, no, I’m not the nurse. I’m…” He can’t meet Len’s eyes. They haven’t really defined what they are to each other, and the last thing he wants is to give Len the wrong impression while he’s too hazy to remember otherwise. “I’m Barry, remember?”

Len shakes his head and beckons Barry closer. Obediently, he perches on the edge of the bed. “Barry,” he repeats. His voice is softer than usual, less a drawl and more a pleasant purr. It’s the way he sounds in the lazy moments after he wakes up, and as it does then, it gives Barry a feeling of unguarded intimacy. 

“Are you okay?” He skims a hand across Len’s cheek. His stubble rasps over Barry’s palm, sandpapery and ticklish. 

“A little sore.” Len smiles up at him. “Hazy, very hazy. Did something happen?”

“Uh…tell you later.” Barry wants to kiss him. That seems presumptuous if not vaguely creepy, so he refrains. 

Len makes a visible effort to focus. “If you’re not the nurse,” he murmurs, “then why are you visiting?” His eyes light up with an odd, subdued hope. “Are you…we’re not…together?” 

Barry nods. His cheeks feel warm again. Len has never looked at him like this, as though he can’t quite believe Barry is real. “Yeah. We’re, um, something? I mean I don’t know how you feel about me, but you mean a lot to me.” 

Len shifts to free his left arm, reaches up, and brushes reverent fingertips over Barry’s cheek. His skin is cool and surprisingly soft. “How did I ever get so lucky?” 

Barry chuckles and shakes his head. There are people for whom ‘lucky’ applies—a subpar CSI with an unnecessary metabolism and a hero complex isn’t one of them. It’s the drugs talking; Len knows better. “You, uh, tried to kill me with a cold gun, and then you didn’t, and we’re kind of an ‘enemies to lovers’ trope with bonus superspeed.” 

“So what you’re saying is, the villain got the guy this time?” It’s said with a lazy version of his customary smirk. Barry shakes his head.

“Nope. I saw the good in you. Turns out I have a weakness for honorable criminals.” 

The hand against Barry’s cheek exerts the slightest amount of pressure. Barry allows himself to be pulled down into a slow, dreamy kiss. It’s awkward given the way they’re angled, but it’s too sweet to stop. 

“Oh.” When they break apart, Len sounds husky and breathless. Barry suppresses a shiver. That voice evokes memories of things they mustn’t do in the medbay, even if Len wasn’t injured. “Like I said, Scarlet. Lucky.” 

“Oh, you remember now?” Barry pulls back enough to make eye contact. Len’s gaze is a little less hazy, although he still looks languid and peaceful. 

“Bits and pieces.” His eyes flicker back to Barry’s lips. “I remember you. Everything else will come back when it’s relevant.”

“The gunshot wound seems pretty relevant,” Barry feels obligated to point out. 

“Hmm.” Len nods. “The parka took the worst of the force out of it. I suffered a little muscular damage, and my right arm will be all but useless for a while.” He smirks at Barry’s flummoxed expression. “Nearly photographic memory, remember?” 

“Then you remember the last few minutes?” Barry doesn’t know why he’s asking. He’d like to believe he’s being playful, but knowing how pathetic he is, he probably wants reassurance. 

Len raises his eyebrows. “Bits and pieces,” he says again. “You could jog my memory.” 

Barry is in no way averse to giving him another kiss. 

(Better yet, as it happens, Rosa Dillon is caught the next day. She can’t whammy someone with whom she can’t make eye contact. Barry, who is both too fast to see and unwilling to make eye contact at the best of times, is the perfect person for the job.)


End file.
